lisas second time
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Double Life 2: Lisa's Night Out free porn video
Double Life 2: Lisa's Night Out
by Lucretia ([email protected])
This story, and all characters, are copyrighted to me. It may be
posted on any free site. It also contains some adult language and
situations. Read at your own risk.
Thanks to Steve Zink for editing!
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"By Your Own Scales Be Dammed"
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2:59 PM
Lisa looked up at the clock. One minute to go. School was
exceptionally boring, even more so when you go through a second
time. But today was Friday, and she supposed that made up for
it. The teacher had become a faint drone in the back of her mind
for the last hour or so, leaving her to her own devices. The
open windows let in a warm summer breeze, teasing her long red
hair, blowing it to and fro. That brought back memories of the
night when she had still been a he. She glanced at her
classmates. A ragtag mixture of kids. No "geeks" or "Jocks",
though some fit one category better than the other. It didn't
really matter.
She never really talked to anyone from school. It wasn't that
she was stuck-up, it just was a matter of having nothing in
common.
The bell rang, ending the last class of the last day of the week.
The other freshmen exited the room in a rush. She gathered her
things together and, standing up from her desk, began to walk
toward the door. Her hair, smooth as silk and reaching almost
past her behind, drifted back and forth, following the movement
of her hips.
"Miss Stephens?"
Lisa turned around and looked at her English teacher. He was
thirty something, and already nearly bald. Typical high school
teacher, business attire and all. She walked back from the edge
of the door and faced him at the front of his desk. She did not
speak, only waited.
"I don't want to keep you from the weekend, but I wanted to
congratulate you on your paper for the 'Rhyme of the Ancient
Mariner'. I've never seen anything like it from a freshman."
"Thank you, Mr. Morrison."
She left the classroom, and made her way to her locker. Nothing
special in there, just a few books and class papers. She emptied
her book bag and hurried to her bus.
4 PM
"Honey, would you help me make dinner?"
"Sure, Mom."
Lisa walked out of the bathroom where she had changed from her
school attire, a simple blue skirt and matching blouse, to tight
black jeans and a tighter black shirt. Her perfect C-cup breasts
stuck out from her chest.
She walked into the modern kitchen, and began making the mashed
potatoes.
"Honey, why do you dress like that?"
It was a never ending tirade. Her mother, so prim and proper,
was often disgusted by the tight clothes she wore. Two years ago
it hadn't mattered. But two years ago might have been forever,
in terms of what had happened. No, her mother needed to believe,
in spite of what had happened, that she was Mommy's little girl,
innocent and beautiful. Her father was much the same. She made
a note to herself to get some looser clothes. End the last
worries her parents had. They didn't deserve it, though.
Soon after, with dinner on the table, her father came in the
door. At 6'5", muscled from being a foreman at the nearby steel
mill, he gave the appearance of a savage brute. Quite the
contrary, he was more teddy bear then grizzly bear.
With small talk around the table, dinner progressed quickly.
Afterward, there were dishes to be washed. She helped out in her
usual manner.
7 PM
Lisa sat in a recliner at the window of her room. No more Heavy
Metal posters. She had taken them down to ease her parents fears
that she was out of control. Fuzzy stuffed bears decorated her
computer desk. In a small alcove formed in-between two
good-sized closets she sat, watching the sun set.
10 PM
Lisa climbed into bed. She had changed from her jeans and
t-shirt into a pink fluffy nightgown, and lie between the sheets,
her arms folded on top of her pillow with her eyes open.
Her father opened her door.
"Goodnight, Lisa."
"Goodnight, Dad."
Her father closed the door, then shut off the hall light. She
closed her eyes. Soon the only sound to be heard was the spring
peepers croaking outside in the damp grass.
11:58 PM (Two minutes to midnight) From Lisa's aspect
I opened my eyes and listened. All quiet in the house. The
flare of heat between my crotch and my hard nipples showed to the
world that I was horny. Incredibly horny, if you took in the
fact that my vagina was wet.
"It's time," I said to myself.
I threw off the covers and stripped myself of the nightgown.
Ugh. I hated it. It made me look like some eight-year old,
years apart from carnal knowledge. I supposed that I wore it to
keep up the innocent girl look. I was hardly that. Speaking of
hard things, I had a certain hard thing on my mind. Only one way
to take care of that heat between my legs and the hard nipples on
my chest. I smiled to myself as I crossed the room and opened
the closet door.
I took brief stock of myself. A fourteen-year old body with
curves that wouldn't quit. Big, perfect C-cup tits. Long, sexy
red hair that had a habit of brushing against my nipples, driving
me wild with ecstasy. Even though I had seen my body many upon
many times before, I couldn't forbear a certain shiver as I
looked at myself. Maybe it was some remnant of my former male
ego.
In the closet was my "Weekend Attire", as I called it. A black
lace body stocking, tighter than the shirt I had been wearing
before. Crotchless red panties, and a bra set to match. I
dressed myself in them, trying not to notice the fact that the
look of myself intensified my libido.
Not to mention the fact that the body stocking was chafing
against my body. I got out my book bag and packed it with a set
of clothes for later. I put on a bright shade of red lipstick.
After adding a few other things I wanted for the night, I
unrolled my ladder from my window.
After making sure my "parents" were asleep, I climbed out the
window. I walked into the trees that were at the back of my
house. Man, the body suit was making me soooo wet. I emerged
from the trees at a nearby highway. I waited, each moment
seeming to last years.
After about fifteen minutes, I saw John and his Ford Probe. He
pulled into the breakdown lane and, opening the door, invited me
inside. The inside reeked of chewing tobacco. We took off.
Small talk between John and myself was almost impossible. I
wanted to get fucked. He wanted to fuck me. Mutual interests.
"Ohh, baby, you're sooooo hot," he said as he caressed my left
breast with the hand not driving.
"MMM!!" I said, as I reached down and rubbed his hard member
through his jeans. I licked my lips in anticipation.
The car wasn't as fast as some, but we made it across the
Massachusetts state line in about fifteen minutes. He pulled off
the highway and after a few minutes, we were at his hotel room.
We looked to make sure no one was around. No one was. He opened
the door and I dashed inside. He walked in a bit more casually,
and shut the door behind him. My walk changed from a dash into a
sexy sort of dance as I kneeled down on the bed.
It was at it always had been. The parting of my vaginal lips by
his member, the delicious clinching of my nerves, the hot
ejection into the condom and the afterglow that had made me feel
so soiled, so...slutty.
In the beginning of my sexual life as a fourteen-year old girl,
the afterglow had seemed heavenly, so loving. It made me feel
wanted and deeply loved. From my previous knowledge of sex as a
man, I knew it to be a lie. But for some reason, my emotions
denied that knowledge. They dismissed the fact that men often
thought with their pricks, not with their heart. They made me
feel so good that I forgot everything I knew as a man.
As a man, sex and love were often two different things entirely.
As a girl, they were together, part of the same emotion.
At least that's what I had thought. After having sex one of my
first times, I had looked down at what I thought to be my lover's
face. I had not seen love, not seen caring. Falling asleep,
drunk, he only looked like a satisfied dog after getting his back
scratched. He didn't even look at me, only fell asleep. Before
he would have said he loved me, he cared for me, he wanted to
hold me forever. Now I knew the truth. After I had gone outside
and cried, wailing shamelessly with my legs folded in the grass
and my face in my hands. I'm pretty sure that was the night I
had gotten pregnant.
Now, it only was a matter of getting off. Being slutty. Driving
a man wild with lust. Getting my rocks off. Aside from the
physical pleasure of it, sex now was cold and heartless.
Sad, but true. What I once wanted so much, I now hated.
My small frame trembled with the third orgasm of the night. John
was getting pretty tired.
"Thanks," I said. "For Everything."
"Same here."
He passed out. I gathered my body suit and clothes together, and
walked into the bathroom.
2 AM
The warm water felt good against the sore parts of my body. I
shower immediately after the sex is over. A long hot shower,
washing off our mutual smell and juices. After that I take a
bath, indulging myself with perfume. No matter how many times
I've done this before, I still can't help but feel depressed and
disgusted with myself. The bath helps. It's here, in this cheap
hotel that I feel that I am born again. From a cock-crazed slut
back to an almost innocent teen girl.
I open my eyes and look at the water and bubbles, just above the
waterline. My hair floats just underneath the bubbles, changing
their color to a blood red. I rinse off and dress myself in
plain black clothes. Now it's time to wake John.
3 AM
"All right, already! I'm awake."
I'm used to it. Hell, after sex when I used to be a man, I just
wanted to sleep. John's eyes wearily shut again, and I have to
shake him. Time for him to bring me home.
3:30 AM
I climb up the ladder. I'm sure John is getting a look at my ass
as I climb into my room. This brings back a pang of disgust, but
I'm feeling all right. The cravings are over for a while. Now
it's time to start the fun.
First, my "Weekend Attire". I walk down to the kitchen and wash
everything off. Hey, I may be a slut in heat sometimes, but I'm
not downright nasty.
The moon is looking bright tonight. The window in front of the
kitchen sink gives me a nice look into the woods. Beautiful. I
walk back upstairs, making sure my parents are still sleeping.
They are. I string up a makeshift clothesline between my two
closets and set everything to drip dry, making sure to spread out
towels on the carpet first.
Second, I unpack my book bag. John is always good enough to buy
me alcohol. A case of Zima and a bottle of Nighttrain. Hey,
cheap but effective. I unpack my soap and perfume and such to
make room for the booze and a few other things. Namely, a
lockpicking set and gloves.
Last of all, I go in back of my house to the shed. I pick up my
gas can. Now, it's time for some REAL fun.
4 AM
I'm looking at some stuck up rich guy's house. Hmm, ADT Security
system. Wired normally closed.
I sneak over to the attached garage, and use my glass cutter to
open the window. My long nails are perfect for finding the
window switch. With a quiet grunt of effort, I bypass it. I
open the window and climb in. A 1999 Ferrari 911. Awesome.
After overriding the switch, I open the door.
Some people are incredibly dumb. I find the keys hung up beside
the door. What is it with the rich and stupidity? Just makes it
easier for me. I put the car in neutral, then roll it down the
driveway and into the street. It only takes me a few minutes of
rolling down the hill to get out of earshot. I turn the key,
starting up the beast of an engine.
The tires squeal as I peel out from the stop sign. I open the
first bottle of Zima. The 911 is a hell of a car, nice and fast.
The wind blows my hair back along the top of the car. I clamp
the Zima bottle between my sexy thighs.
"I may be bad," I say to myself and the wind, "but I feel
gooood!"
I enter the highway. It's pretty much abandoned at this time of
the night. I kick on the CD player, and open the next bottle of
Zima. As I drive, Axel Rose is singing about riding the
Nighttrain.
Oh boy, am I ever. At this point I stop thinking about where I
am going. It's not WHERE I care about, but HOW. Driving hard
and fast brings my state of arousal again, but this time it's not
the same. Before, all I would think about was a hard cock
slamming into me. Now while I would not mind having sex with a
guy, I don't feel the need to. Now it's just the excitement of
driving at 100 miles per hour plus and the vibrations between my
crotch and the Zima bottle caused by the Ferrari.
Shifting. Feeling the wind pull on my hair. The loud rock music
in my ears, with it's deep bass drum and its emotionally charged
vocals and guitar. The vibrations of the music and the engine
itself are by far better then any man could ever be. In this
semi-alcohol induced feeling of Goddessdom, I feel like nothing's
gonna take me down. The power of it all and the feeling of
freedom are more than words can explain. The miles and miles of
asphalt blackness roll on by.
Every now and then I throw a bottle out the window. Time seems
to stand still as my blood alcohol level increases.
"Punch it, Chewy!" I scream.
"AAA, Luke!" I scream, in my best Wookie imitation.
I punch the throttle, bringing the car up to over
one-hundred-forty. Damn, I'm feeling good.
I spare a moment to think of my wife and children in the future.
My wife will raise them well. I hope they will not grieve over
me long. Perhaps I should check on them; but in contrast, I
probably should not. Lisa (the phantom, or whatever she was)
told me never to go looking for them.
5 AM
I sense the coming of dawn, and the end of another night of
sorrow and joy. I run the car over an embankment, and I jump out
with my stuff. I quickly surround the car with gasoline from the
can.
The lipstick on the end of my cigarette flashes once before
igniting the gas. I've done this plenty of times. Again and
again I have heard the thudding explosion as the gas tank
ignites.
Fire. Doesn't the Bible say ashes to ashes, and dust to dust?
Sometimes I wish that's all I was. Just a pile of beautiful
broken bones lying in a wreck.
It's now, as I climb back into my room, that I am at my worst. I
undress and put my hanging clothes back in the closet. I close
my eyes (I never watch the sun rise) against the coming of dawn.
It's in this few moments before sleep overtakes me that I look on
my fate.
I did nothing wrong. Wanting to be female was not wrong. I
understand that now. But why was I made to suffer like I am? It
had to be something. Again I ask myself the question.
"Where did I screw up?" my voice, trembling with tears in my
throat, calls out.
Suddenly, I am in a dark place. I'm shivering and can't see my
surrounding's. What's going on?
A voice I know all too well whispers to me.
"You never will change."
The darkness ebbs, and I now see I am sitting next to a campfire.
The warmth makes my body shiver as if to drive out the cold.
Standing across from me is the phantom I saw that fateful night.
"No matter what, it's all about you, isn't it? Your suffering,
your lost family, your lost manhood. You, you, you, right?"
I now feel anger well up inside of me. I know I shouldn't
challenge an entity as powerful as her, but my pride leads me on.
"NO! Don't you think I care about other people, too? Am I not
doing my best to ease my new parents fears? Huh? Just what do
you want from me?"
Somewhere in this vision of a forest, a bear roars. A knot
explodes in the fire.
"There we are, back to YOU again. All you want to do is end your
own suffering. For that, you will do anything, won't you? Suck
cocks without end? Endure more heartache and disgust with
yourself?"
"Please," I sob, "have mercy!"
"Last chance. After this, we will have no further contact. What
did you do wrong? Think first. Your next words are your last
hope."
This...this is it. One last chance. For the last time ever I
utter my reply. "I was not wrong. Having hope that one day I
would become female. It is true that I acted reckless, marrying
a woman I might someday leave behind. Having children that I
might leave behind. But I lived with my decision, and never left
them."
"So be it."
I watch as the campfire fades away. The forest fades. I am
sitting across from the phantom. A face appears in the space
taken up between the hair and shirt.
And she is wearing a smile. Love seems to radiate from it. So
much light and love!
"You are brave, little one. You are correct. You lived with
your decision, endured the suffering knowing that you were
different, knowing that your marriage might be doomed. Rash as
the decision was, you did what you could."
"But if I wasn't wrong, why did you make me the slut that I am?"
"Because that's what you wanted. You wanted so badly to know how
it was to have sex in a girl's body that it became a sexual
obsession. You stopped caring about the beauty of femininity. I
want to teach you that sex without love is nothing. For that, I
will drop your libido down."
"You mean I won't get that urge anymore?"
She laughs. Not cruelly, as I have always known it, but
genuinely amused. "Oh now, please. Even normal girls once in a
while get that urge. I must admit, you did your best to get it
under control."
I blush, embarrassed, then wonder why I should be embarrassed.
Hell, I have had enough sex not to be embarrassed by the thought.
What's going on now?
"I have given you innocence. Quite simply, now when sex comes to
your mind, it will no longer bring an urgent need. You will be
free to wonder what love the person can show you."
For the first time in a long time, I am actually happy. But...
"You said teach, as in the present state. You mean..."
"You have much to learn about yourself. Someone out there still
waits for you. You will know when the time comes what to do."
With that, the vision starts fading. Someone is shaking me.
It's my mother, trying to wake me up. But there is one last
thing I want to know. I may never see her again, so I summon all
my strength and speak.
"What is your real name?"
"Call Me StarGirl."
2 PM
Lisa wakes up, begging her mother for one more hour of sleep.
Needless to say, her mother doesn't oblige. Saturday lunch is on
the table as she sits down.
(end)
Marisol
- 17.01.2023
- 18
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